


Paper Houses

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 50 Reasons to Have Sex Fic Fest, Actor Harry Styles, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, Exes, Exes to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Famous Harry, Famous Louis, Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Kissing, Long-Distance Relationship, Los Angeles, M/M, Magazine articles, Model Louis, POV Louis, Pining, Riding, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Then, side Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-22 20:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12490168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Reason to have sex #6: Rebound---“Who is that?” He hisses.Zayn holds up a hand to stop Louis from speaking any further.The voice on the other end of the phone continues. “Then, he saw a photo of him on Insta with his little sister and brother, and he was so gone, dude. He basically demanded that I find Louis for him! And he’s never demanded anything from me ever !”“Pshhhh, Louis’ been jerking off to Harry for years--”Louis dives from his place on the couch to sprawl across Zayn’s desk, snatching the phone up. There are loud noises coming from the other end of the phone as Louis shouts into it. “Who is this? Zayn has no idea what he’s talking about--”Someone on the other end has begun shouting into the phone at the same time. “I never demanded anything--”---When model Louis Tomlinson admits to having a celebrity crush on a very famous actor in an article in GQ magazine, he has no idea it will lead to anything. He definitely never suspects he will fall so hard and so fast for Harry Styles. When reality begins to interfere, their relationship is put to the test.





	Paper Houses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [28pxls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/28pxls/gifts).



> I wrote this fic in honor of my friend Andy's birthday...which was cough many months ago. Andy, thank you so much for all the cheerleading you do for my fics! You've helped me gain so much more confidence in my writing, and all I can offer in return is a fic and some love. So Andy, happy very very late birthday, and I hope you enjoy the fic! 
> 
> Thank you to my amazing beta taggiecb who patiently holds my hand through it all. And a thanks to waitingforsomeghostie for brainstorming the idea for this fic with me when we first heard the song "Attention" by Charlie Puth. 
> 
> The title obviously comes from Niall Horan's song "Paper Houses."
> 
> This fic was written for the 50 Reasons to Have Sex Fic Fest. You can read the other fics in this collection [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/50Reasons/works)

**> >><<<**

**PROLOGUE**

** >>><<<**

 

GQ Magazine

“Pretty Boy”

By Andy Softhie

Photographs by Rhys Frampton

You see male model Louis Tomlinson everywhere these days--in magazines, billboards, television and runways. He travels the world, has become rich and famous, and can land any man he wants, all before his twenty-fourth birthday. Nice work, if you can get it.

He walks through strobe lights wearing silk suits and ripped t-shirts, and once, inexplicably, suspenders with very little else. His is not to question why or to ponder too deeply on the reasoning behind a fashion designer’s decision to send him down a runway mostly nude with aforementioned suspenders holding up a few scraps of fabric.

He’s neither a waif nor a muscled brute. He never works out, but prefers instead to get his exercise on a soccer field. He also walks a lot, through the bright lights between walls of people who want him--or maybe just want the clothes he wears. He walks the runways in Paris, Berlin, New York, Milan--though he’s primarily based out of Los Angeles where he grew up watching photo shoots on Malibu beaches. Now he’s the one gracing magazine covers including this very issue.

No matter what the venue, Louis Tomlinson stands out. He walks a runway in virtually the same way, bent slightly forward, head leading, mouth curved at a slight angle, sometimes with a hint of menace, but more often with pure, unbridled sensuality. When he appears before a crowd or from the pages of a magazine, his blue eyes gaze out at you, pinning you in place with his magnetism. His face is its own landscape of high cheekbones and wide set eyes, and a nose that nearly detracts from his handsomeness with a pixie quality. He can at once exude power and yet somehow remain delicate.

Most people don’t care what male models think or even know their names, but Louis Tomlinson has captured the attention of many as we scramble to buy the clothes off his back--Adidas, Gucci, Dior, Polari, Kappa, Vetements, Y-3, Neil Barrett. And people do care what Louis Tomlinson says if his social media presence is anything to go by.

When I ask him about his love life, he claims it to be non existent at the moment and describes an encounter courtesy of a dating app his mother signed him up for. “I thought the guy seemed nice enough, but my biggest mistake was committing to a long date. Drinks, a movie, and dinner. I’d had enough of him by halfway through my first drink.”

Louis raises an eyebrow before continuing on. “He spoke so loudly, disturbing everyone around us, waving his arms about to make his point. He actually stood up at one point to better tell his story. Very embarrassing, but I hoped that the movie would go better.”

Louis makes a rude noise. “It didn’t. He talked during the movie. One of _those_. But then I got a text from my friend who is also my agent. He’d just been dumped by his boyfriend of two years. So I obviously had to cut the date short for which I was endlessly grateful. Though of course I was sorry about my friend.”

Louis’ astonishing blue eyes widen and draw me in as he leans closer. “And then, do you know what this dickhead had the nerve to say? He walked me to my car and hugged me and said, “It’s a shame you have to leave. I cleaned my sheets.”  

Louis leans back into the couch near the fireplace of The Bowery Hotel in New York City where he’s met me for a chat. He claims it’s quite hard to meet someone in the modeling world when you’re a gay man, saying that perhaps there’s a stereotype about male models but that the ones he knows are straight for the most part. Another exception perhaps being his close friend, fellow model Miles McMillan, who he is seen with frequently in New York.

He shoots me a cold look when I suggest something more than friendship with Miles could be brewing. “We’re just friends. Can we move on from my lackluster love life?”

I ask for just one more question on the topic: Who would you say is your celebrity crush?

Louis hesitates for a moment. “I recently saw a film--well, you know who is quite talented--uh--if I had to say--” He laughs nervously, the first hint of something breaking through his reserve with me. He clears his throat and finally admits, “Harry Styles.”

**> >><<< >>><<<**

Louis congratulates himself for actually being on time to his appointment with his agent. He walks into the familiar building and gives the cute receptionist a wink.

Luke tries his best to stay professional, but there’s a small smile there. Louis can tell. Definitely not immune to the Tommo charm. “He’s on the phone, but go ahead and go on in, Louis.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He wanders in and plops down. He lays himself out on Zayn’s couch in a sexy pin-up pose to make Zayn laugh, but he’s paying zero attention to him. Zayn’s completely concentrating on this phone call.

He must have the phone on speaker because Louis can hear a voice come through on the other end. “You should have seen his eyes bug out of his head when I showed him photos of Louis.”

Louis perks up. Well, at least if he’s being ignored in person it’s because someone is talking about him. He leans back into the couch with his hands behind his head, satisfied for now.

Zayn laughs. “Please. Louis has been hot for Harry since his first movie.”

Louis shoots up into sitting position.

“Who is that?” He hisses.

Zayn holds up a hand to stop Louis from speaking any further.

The voice on the other end of the phone continues. “Then, he saw a photo of him on Insta with his little sister and brother, and he was so gone, dude. He basically demanded that I find Louis for him! And he’s never demanded _anything_ from me _ever_!”

“Pshhhh, Louis’ been jerking off to Harry for years--”

Louis dives from his place on the couch to sprawl across Zayn’s desk, snatching the phone up. There are loud noises coming from the other end of the phone as Louis shouts into it. “Who is this? Zayn has no idea what he’s talking about--”

Someone on the other end has begun shouting into the phone at the same time. “I never demanded anything--”

“Zayn’s full of shit--”

“Liam’s talking out of his ass--”

“Who is this?”

“Who is _this_?”

“This is Louis Tomlinson.”

“Oh. Uh--this is Harry Styles.”

“Oh.”

“Um, hi?”

Louis clears his throat. He’s still laying sprawled across Zayn’s desk. He’s afraid to look at Zayn who is probably pissing himself with laughter. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You already said that.” Louis points out.

“Sorry. I’m nervous.”

“You are?” This seems extremely odd that Harry Styles would be nervous.

“Yes. Um, would you like to go to dinner sometime? Errr--with me? I mean, dinner with me?”

“I figured you meant with you, Harold. And not just eating dinner in general.”

“Oh, it’s actually just Harry, not Harold.”

“Uh, yeah, I know.”

“So--would you like to then? Go to dinner? With me?”

“Is this because of the GQ article?”

“Um, well, that’s how--er, my agent saw it and--I mean, I--”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Styles. Maybe it’s best we talk about this in person because if your agent is anything like mine he is currently having an aneurysm from pent up laughter right now.”

“Mine is all red and splotchy and holding his hand over his mouth.”

“I haven’t looked at mine yet, but I’m probably going to punch him in the balls as soon as this conversation is over.” Louis hears Zayn roll his chair further away from the desk.

“Before you go, could I get your number then? Maybe I can try asking you out again without an audience?”

Louis quickly gives Harry his phone number, and as soon as he hangs up Zayn’s phone, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket with a text. If that’s Harry, he seems serious about taking him out on a date. He’ll check the text as soon as he’s done threatening his agent.

>>><<<

On their first date, Louis shows up to Harry’s house in the Hollywood Hills in his fuck-me jeans. They most certainly make an impression on Harry who drops the rolling pin he still had in his hand when he answers the door.

“Wow. You’re--” Harry clears his throat and picks up the rolling pin off the floor. “You look--you’re very beautiful in person. I mean, you’re very beautiful in magazines as well. Just--you’re even more beautiful standing in front of me, which I didn’t think was possible.”

Louis is quite used to people being awed by his looks, but he’s pretty sure this is the most awkwardly anyone has ever spoken to him in his life. It’s a bit baffling really, seeing as how the person fumbling about is Harry Styles. “You’re not so bad yourself, Styles.”

“Um, thank you.” Harry looks down at his inward turned toes as though embarrassed by Louis’ small compliment.

Harry shows him to a stool in the kitchen and gradually relaxes as he begins rolling out dough across the kitchen island.

“Wow. Very impressive,” Louis says as he watches Harry roll out dough into small circles. “What are you making me?”

“I figured pizza would be fairly safe. Everyone likes pizza.”

“As long as there’s no pineapple, we’re good.”

Harry gives him a scandalized look. “How dare you? You don’t like pineapple on your pizza? Please leave my home immediately.”

“Well, that was a short first date,” Louis says, shaking his head as he hops off a stool and pretends to head towards the door.

“No, no, no! No pineapple, I promise!” Harry swears as he takes Louis by the shoulders and leads him back onto a stool at the kitchen island.

They have a few laughs over a bottle of wine, but Louis’ fuck-me jeans stay firmly in place over his ass. Harry doesn’t try to touch him again.

Louis leaves wondering if he’ll ever hear from him again. It’s a little confusing. He was sure it was going well even though it took a little while for Harry to relax. Harry stands in the doorway as Louis climbs into his Range Rover and waves him off.

As he walks back into his house, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

 

> _I had an amazing time tonight. I waited to text until I thought you’d be home. I didn’t want you to be distracted while driving. Can I see you tomorrow night if you’re free? H._

>>><<<

“Your feet are freezing. How is that possible?” Harry looks at him, bemused as Louis tucks his feet under Harry’s thigh. “We live in L.A. It’s like eighty degrees out.”

“My body temperature doesn’t give a fuck how hot it is outside, Styles. Please don’t interrupt the movie. You’ve forced me into watching it as it is. Just let me enjoy it now.”

Harry smiles at him with what would be the world’s creepiest smile except that it’s on the face of one of the world’s most handsome men.

Louis tries to concentrate on _The Notebook_ as they sit sprawled across the couch in his living room, watching it on his big screen. He wiggles his toes beneath Harry’s hard thigh. He can tell Harry’s leg is a bit tensed, and he just can’t help but poke a bit at him. This is the most they’ve touched, Louis’ feet to Harry’s leg.

He’s still finding Harry a bit of a mystery on their second date. Harry has shown up with flowers, a big, bright bouquet of blooms. Louis has no clue what each flower is, but they’re colorful and showy. Harry says they reminded him of Louis. He would assume Harry is talking out of his ass and just had his assistant pick up flowers from a florist, but Harry seems oddly sincere for an actor as famous as he is.

Louis’ phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of them. He can see it’s a text from Zayn.

“It’s my agent, sorry. I’d better just check it at least.” Louis apologizes, but Harry just smiles and waves it off.

He stays on the couch and clicks on the text. Attached is a link to a Harry Styles update account. He glances up at Harry who is studiously watching Ryan Gosling’s character write letters. The text says: _Are those for you?_

Louis goes ahead and clicks on the link which opens up photos of Harry walking into a florist and coming out with a bouquet of flowers, the ones currently in a vase in Louis’ kitchen.

>>><<<

Louis wakes up the morning after their _The Notebook_ movie date with a text from Harry on his phone. 

 

> _I have a dinner meeting at five with my new director. Can I see you after that? Sorry, I know it cuts the night short._

Harry wants to see him three nights in a row? Louis isn’t sure he’s ever spent three nights in a row with someone, not even one of his exes. He’s going to attempt to not overthink this, even if the most physical he’s gotten with Harry so far is a hug at the end of their date last night. It _was_ a pretty good hug as far as hugs go. Louis is quite skilled with a hug. He still isn’t sure Harry is interested in more than friendship from him. Although, who brings expensive flowers when meeting up with someone you just want to be friends with? No, these are definitely dates. Very gentle dates that are nothing like any first or second date Louis has been on.

Harry arrives around eight o’clock with a heavenly smelling bag in his hand.

“You said you hadn’t eaten yet,” he says with a dimpled grin, holding up an In-N-Out Burger bag.

“Woah.” Louis takes the bag from him and peeks inside. “A Double-Double, fries--”

“And a chocolate shake.” Harry holds up the cup in his other hand.

“Oh my god, I could kiss you, Harry!” Louis says as he reaches for the shake, freezing in mid-air as he realizes what he’s said. “Errrr--”

“I wish you would,” Harry says quietly.

“Really?” Louis takes the shake and puts it and the bag on the table near the door and then slowly reaches up to tug the front of Harry’s shirt, drawing him in closer.

Harry’s lovely green eyes grow wide just before their lips meet. It’s a soft, small brush of contact, but it licks fire through Louis’ veins. He’s never felt anything quite like it before. In the next second, Harry picks him up and carries him to the couch without his lips ever releasing Louis’. The food grows cold on the table as Louis sits in Harry’s lap kissing him.

>>><<<

  
“Wow, Styles. You are as terrible at FIFA as you said you were.”

“Heyyyy.” Harry protests, dropping his controller in his lap and pursing his lips into a pout.

Louis cackles and scores yet another goal.

Harry gasps in indignation. “That wasn’t fair! I had stopped playing!”

“All’s fair in love and FIFA, babe.”

“Is that so?”

Louis glances up just as Harry tumbles him out of his gaming chair to the floor. Louis squeals loudly as Harry’s long fingers find the ticklish nerves beneath his arms. They tangle together as Louis gasps out for mercy.

Harry’s hands finally still and plant themselves on either side of Louis’ shoulders. Harry looms over him as instant tension crackles between them. Harry moves, and Louis isn’t sure whether he meant to move in closer or further away. It doesn’t matter because Louis reaches for him.

His hands find their way into the curls at the back of Harry’s neck. He threads them between his fingers, their silky strands nearly as soft as the satin of his lips.  

Harry’s body lowers to his own and presses him into the soft rug beneath him. Harry’s lips leave his and travel over the line of his jaw and under his ear. He gasps as Harry’s teeth nip at the lobe there before moving to his neck. He feels the rush of cool air as Harry’s body pulls away, and he feels the loss of it. But then Harry’s fingers are back, rucking up his shirt until his chest is exposed to the coolness of the room.

Harry’s lips and mouth and tongue burn a path down Louis’ body until he reaches the waistband of Louis’ sweatpants. He glances up then from between Louis’ legs. His eyes blaze green with passion. He’s asking permission. Louis gives a few jerks of his head, which he hopes Harry knows means yes.

His sweatpants are quickly lowered beneath his ass, his hard cock sprung free from the confines of his boxer briefs. The lips and mouth and tongue that Louis has fantasized about for so long close over him, and he nearly comes undone.

>>><<<

“Louis, turn your head up a bit. Miles, turn yours down. Right there. Yes, yes. Bring your bodies just a little closer together--good. Perfect. Beautiful.”

The photographer continues to take what seems like endless shots. The cold water of the Pacific laps at his ankles. He wishes he could cuddle Miles for body heat. He wiggles his toes in the sand. He thinks they’re becoming numb.

“Okay, go ahead and take a break while we get the next shot set up.”

Louis makes a line for Harry who is sitting further back on the beach in a lounge chair taken off the deck of the multi-million dollar home they’re renting for this Malibu beach shoot. One of the assistants intercepts him offering him a large robe before he makes his way to Harry.

“Oh, baby. Are you cold?” Harry asks, his arms outstretched.

Louis plops into his lap, and Harry wraps his arms around him. It’s lovely. He sighs as he tucks his face into the curve of Harry’s neck.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Miles is standing next to them, observing. Honestly, they’ve been closely watched today. It’s not every day a very famous movie star is on a shoot just to watch. “So how long has this been going on? Since Lou spilled his guts to GQ?”

“Shortly thereafter.” Harry answers with a gleam in his eye and dimples slashing his cheeks.

Miles gives him a curious look. “You still headed to New York on the first?”

“Yeah. I’m walking in the shows, and I have a photo shoot for Dior Homme before then.”

“Cool. Do you want to stay with me and Zachary while you’re there or do--”

“You can stay in my apartment,” Harry interrupts.

Miles’ eyebrows ascend to the sky. “Well, well, well. You two have known each other for all of two weeks, but you’re going to trust Louis to poke around your apartment? Or will you be following him to New York?”

Harry scrunches his nose up in thought before catching Louis’ eye. “If you’d like me to join you, I can. But either way, you’re welcome to stay there. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

>>><<<

Bacon grease splatters Louis’ arm. “Shit! Fuck! Fuck!”

He runs cold water over the burn as Harry walks sleepily into his own kitchen. His hair is rumpled from sleep, his eyes still a bit droopy as he rubs them. Louis’ heart clenches tightly in his chest. He suspects it’s not just because Harry is standing nearby in just a pair of tight red boxer briefs. Not that it isn’t highly enticing to see Harry’s muscled torso flex as he yawns, his absurd butterfly tattoo contracting. He stretches his arms above his head as he yawns, drawing Louis’ attention to the hard muscles of his biceps. Louis knows what those biceps look like as Harry strains to hold the headboard as Louis fucks him.

“Oh, baby, were you making me breakfast?”

Oh, shit. The breakfast. Louis quickly turns off the burner and plates the bacon just as Harry draws up behind him. Louis feels the arms he’d just been admiring wrap around his stomach as Harry presses Louis’ back to the front of his body. Harry’s fingers slip lower until one hand delves beneath the front of Louis’ sweatpants. Louis turns his head a bit so Harry’s lips can capture his own in a heated kiss. He arches into it, letting his fingers tug on Harry’s curls. He moans into Harry’s mouth as Harry’s fingers wrap around his cock.

They’re both panting as Harry suddenly slows his hand and parts their lips. “I haven’t fucked you in the kitchen yet.”

“Oh?” Louis asks, his voice strangled.

Harry is still holding him close as he whispers hoarsely in his ear. “I want to fuck you in every room of this house and every room of my apartment in New York.”

Louis nearly chokes. “Where do you want me, Styles?”

Harry’s grip on his waist tightens, but his tone is pleading. “Louuuu, don’t call me by my last name when I’m about to fuck you on my dining room table.”

Louis laughs as he breaks away from Harry’s grip and takes his hand, leading him to the table. “Okay, Harold.”

>>><<<

Louis is still sitting in his robe in a makeup chair backstage at Gucci when he sees Harry being ushered in. He walks in a bit hunched over to hear what one of Alessandro Michele’s assistants is saying to him. She waves in Louis’ general direction, and Harry’s eyes dart to him.

He smiles, and Harry beams back with a ridiculous smile that probably knocked everyone in the vicinity to their knees. Louis knows heads are turning at the sight of Harry Styles with a large bouquet of pink roses. Everyone is watching to see who he’s here for.

“Hey, Lou.”

Louis can’t wipe the smile off his face. “Aw, babe. Did you bring me flowers? Love when you bring me flowers.”

“Yes, I hope that’s okay.” Harry glances around at all the watchful eyes. “I seem to be sticking out like a sore thumb carrying them around.”

Louis shakes his head in amusement. “I don’t think the flowers are the only reason people are watching you, Harry.”

Harry leans in before stopping abruptly in midair. He glances over at the makeup artist who is watching them, bemused. “Can I?”

“Yes,” she says with a smile. “One small one and then I need to finish up.”

Harry nods and quickly pecks Louis on the lips. Fucking hell if Louis doesn’t revel in all this attention. It’s always been one of his vices, always needing someone’s attention. To have this much attention from Harry Styles of all people is the stuff of dreams.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” Louis knows it’s ridiculous the way he’s grinning at Harry right now like a lovesick fool away from his heart for a few hours at most. He can’t help it though. He’s seen Harry every day for the last month, and as of tomorrow Harry will be heading an ocean away to film a WWII movie.

“I’m sitting front row!” Harry exclaims happily. “I think my stylist may have had to sign in blood that I’ll be photographed in Gucci for a while, but it’s worth it. It means I get to watch you work and wear my favorite brand.”

Harry applauds the loudest as Louis walks out a final time with Alessandro to close the show, and Louis wakes up in the morning to a bed cold on one side and a phone full of texts with links to articles. He clicks on the one Zayn has sent. There are photos. Many, many photos from the last week they’ve spent in New York. Shopping for groceries. Browsing a bookstore. Buying sunglasses. Eating dinner. Harry staring at him as he sat front row at Gucci.

Reality has arrived.

>>><<<

Louis has to leave in less than fifteen minutes if he’s going to be on time to his meeting, but he sits beside Harry’s pool and stares out at the view, unable to tear himself away just yet. He’s not sure why he keeps doing this, showing up at Harry’s house a few times a week.

He pulls out his phone. _I’m sitting by your pool right now. Bet you wish you were here._

He doesn’t get an immediate response. It should be about nine o’clock Harry’s time if Louis is calculating correctly. He tries not to let it bother him.

When he’s leaving Zayn’s office, his phone buzzes with a reply. _Wish I was there with you, but not in the pool. Done enough swimming in the English Channel to last me a lifetime at this point.”_

Louis doesn’t even really understand what that means. Before he can try and call Harry now that he’s answered, he’s got another text. _I’m exhausted. Going to sleep now. Miss you._

Louis sighs and pockets his phone.

>>><<<

“You need to stop moping around.” Zayn gives him a pointed look from the other side of his desk.

“Why?”

“ _Why?_ Because it’s a long distance relationship not a death sentence. Go hang out with your friends. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis winces at the high pitch of his own voice.

“It means you’ve barely seen anyone since you started dating Harry.”

Louis slumps across the couch.

“That’s not true.” He knows it’s true.

“You’re miserable because you’ve got no one’s attention.”

“That’s not true.” He knows that’s true, too.

Zayn raises an eyebrow. “Lou, I’m saying this for your own good. You’ve got a photo shoot tomorrow, and then you’re off for two weeks before you go to New York to shoot the Dior campaign. Go hang out with Matty for a few days and then show up early to New York and spend some time with Miles and Zachary. He’s doing a play. I know they’re in town. Maybe Miles will even have some advice for you.”

Louis snorts. “About what?”

“About dating an actor.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, and he can feel Zayn preparing to ask him something. Fuck, they know each other too well.

“When’s the last time you spoke to Harry?”

A small trickle of fear runs down his spine. “A few--we text every day--almost every day. But it’s hard to catch him at the right time to talk much.”

He’s afraid to even look at Zayn, afraid to see any pity on his face. Zayn says something unexpected though. “I know he misses you.”

“What?”

Zayn looks uncomfortable for a moment. “I--talk to--I’ve sort of been seeing--you know Harry’s agent, Liam?”

“You’re fucking Harry’s agent? Wow. Okay.”

“I’m _dating_ Harry’s agent. And Liam says that Harry really misses you.”

“Well, good to know he has time to talk to Liam about how much he misses me instead of, you know, actually talking to me. You’d think that would help with the whole missing me thing.” Louis can feel his temper rising to the surface. He stands up from the couch, his jaw set, and walks out the door without even saying goodbye.

He gets in his Range Rover and just starts driving until he reaches the Pacific. Hours later, he arrives home just in time for a delivery, a large bouquet of white flowers. It’s a lovely arrangement, but he knows who really sent them.  Even though the card says they’re from Harry, he knows this is a byproduct of Zayn talking to Liam. Harry would never buy him white flowers.

>>><<<

“So how long is Harry in France for?” Matty throws his bag just inside the door and starts looking around Harry’s apartment.

“Another month and a half.” Louis sighs as he looks out at the view of New York City from the 28th floor of the building. He turns around to see Matty opening and closing every cupboard in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Just having a look around.” Matty starts down a hallway opening and shutting doors before he heads into the bedroom. Louis follows him in to find him looking through the closet. He lets out a low whistle. “These are some nice clothes.”

“Oh my god. Stop going through everything.” He grabs the Gucci suit out of Matty’s hands and stuffs it back in the closet.

Matty pulls a face at him. “Oh calm down. You’re still fucking him. What’s he care if your friend goes through his shit? It’s not like I’m gonna sell him out to the tabloids for his rather large collection of Britney Spears t-shirts.”

Louis makes a rude noise as he lets his bag drop to the floor of Harry’s bedroom.

Matty dives on top of the bed. “What? Please tell me in this day and age that the two of you have figured out to do your fucking on Skype.”

Louis shrugs and opens his bag just to have something to do with his hands.

_“Louis.”_

_“Matty.”_

“Call him right now. Tell him you want to have sex via Skype so that you won’t feel guilty about your friends going through his underwear drawer.”

“Shut up. We have--it’s just--not--often.”

“How often is not often?”

“I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Well, who _are_ you talking to about it? If we’re gonna have it out, it’s gotta be this week. I’ll be busy next week with finalizing the next album’s release.”

“I have other friends you know.”

“Yeah, fucking Miles who spends all his time in New York. Who else? Zayn? He’s your agent. He barely counts.”

“Hey! He was my friend before he was my agent. And I have other people, too. Like Calvin and Oli and--”

“They don’t live in L.A. Lou, I’m not saying you don’t have friends. I’m saying just talk to one of them, but probably first talk to Harry.”

Louis looks at the phone that he suddenly realizes is in his hand. “What? I’m gonna ask him to have Skype sex while you’re in the next room?”

Matty waggles his eyebrows. “Bet it would be pretty hot actually. _‘Oh, Harry, your hands are so big! Oh, Harry, your dick is so--’ ”_

Louis hits him with a pillow.

“Stop! Stop! I’m kidding. I’d make myself scarce. Really.”

Matty gives him a final look before waltzing back out of the bedroom. Louis sits on the edge of the bed before pressing Harry’s contact in his phone. The phone rings multiple times and right before he’s sure it’s going to voicemail a once familiar deep voice croaks out a hello.

“Hi, Harry.” He hates the way his voice sounds. Meek, when he’s not meek. Small, when he’s not small.

“Hi, babe.” Harry clears his throat and Louis can hear the rustle of something in the background.

“Sorry, are you in bed?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay.”

“Um. Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m in New York now.”

“Liam got you the keys and everything okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks for letting us stay.”

“No problem, Lou. I hope you guys have fun with Miles. I’m sure it’s really something to see the three of you all together.”

“Mmmm.” Louis says. “Um, I know you’re probably tired, but Matty agreed to make himself scarce if we wanted to--you know--”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone. “Fuck, I’d really like to take you up on that, but every muscle in my body aches. How about tomorrow? I don’t have to be in the water tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ve got a photo shoot in the morning, but I’ll call you around this time tomorrow. Oh, and Zayn’s having me meet with some people from Tom Ford about an ad campaign. It’s being shot in London in a couple weeks. I’ll be there on the twenty-eighth.” He waits for Harry’s response, waiting for Harry to invite him to see him in France or meet up with him in London.

“Sounds good, babe.” Harry answers, his voice slow and sleepy. “Good night.”

>>><<<

Matty leaves the apartment the next day spouting every innuendo he can think of as Louis pushes him out the door. Calling Harry has been all he can think about today. Once he can see him on the screen, he’s going to try to be more clear about a few things. Obviously, he still wants the sex, but god, he just wants to see Harry’s face and watch his expressions. He wants to see Harry’s eyes light up when they look at him. He wants to tell Harry he is going to come see him in France once he’s already in London. He’s going to just be direct about it. He opens his laptop, his fingers a bit tingly in anticipation.

Harry doesn’t answer. He’s not even logged in to Skype. He doesn’t answer his phone either.

Louis wakes up in Harry’s bed with a pounding headache, empty wine bottles on the bedside table, Matty snoring beside him wearing one of Harry’s floral suits, and an apologetic text message from Harry promising to call.

He’s glad Matty refuses to leave him. They nurse their hangovers with pizza that just makes him remember his first date with Harry and awful, hand-pressed organic juice blends that were stocked in the refrigerator. They watch dumb television shows and argue over what house people should choose on House Hunters and whether Sanjay and Craig is stupid or funny.

Louis keeps his phone clutched in his hand. Matty never says anything about that. Louis keeps himself logged into Skype. Matty never says anything about that either. The call never comes, and Matty finds a bottle of champagne in Harry’s refrigerator and opens it. They drink it straight from the bottle as Matty cuddles him close as they watch endless episodes of Friends until they fall asleep.

>>><<<

Louis doesn’t check the voicemail that’s waiting for him the next morning. He boards a plane and turns off his phone. There’s another one waiting for him when he lands at LAX. He doesn’t check that one either.

The thing that he just has to face is that he was clearly always more interested in Harry than Harry was in him. And sure, Harry was the one who asked _him_ out, but Louis is the one who fawned over him in that damn GQ article. Harry would never even have known who he was.

The texts start the next day.

 

> _I’m so sorry. Please call me._
> 
> _Lou, I’m so so sorry. Please check your voicemails._
> 
> _Have you listened to any of the voicemails? Please call me either way._
> 
> _Please just hear me out, Louis. Just call me back. Please. I’ll have my phone on me just in case._

Louis reads a week’s worth of these texts, although he still refuses to listen to any of the voicemails. Nothing is changed though. Everything is still the same. Fuck, it hurts to see those texts and those voicemails and know that none of it matters.

He takes a shot of tequila and shakes out his arms. He takes a deep breath before he calls. He’s ready to talk. Ready to either hear him out or let him go. Ready to admit he wants more than Harry might have to give him.

What he’s not ready for is Harry’s voicemail. Although, he should have been. He nearly laughs when Harry doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t.

“Harry, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised I have to do this over voicemail, but it is what it is. I get it. I’d rather you just--stop pretending this is more than it is. Just stop.”

Harry doesn’t stop. The voicemails and texts continue at odd hours of the day and night. He’s getting better at ignoring them though.

The flowers start a week later. White roses, white lilies, white tulips, white daisies. The first bouquet goes down his garbage disposal. So do the second and third. The fourth he finds a nursing home to drop them off at. That’s what he does with the fifth and sixth, too. They just make him feel like an idiot for thinking everything was more than it was. He stares at the seventh bouquet, this time of white dahlias, and picks up his phone.

 

> _I know Liam is sending the flowers. Please ask him to stop._

He doesn’t get a reply that day or the next, but the flowers stop coming.

There’s a new type of ache in his chest now that Harry has stopped leaving voicemails and texts. He hopes it means that he is accepting what’s happened. It hurts, but really, it was barely any time at all. When Zayn’s boyfriend dumped him, they’d been together for two years. This was barely a few months. It will be fine. He’ll get over it. Zayn did. Zayn’s out here fucking other agents now, and everything is fine.

After one week of silence, there’s one last text, a plea of sorts.

 

> _I know you read all my texts, so I’m texting because I don’t know that you’ve listened to any of the voicemails. I just wanted one last time to say please call me so we can talk about this. This is the last time I’ll text. If you don’t call, I get it. You don’t want to talk to me anymore. I’ll stop bothering you. I hope you’ll call me, Louis. H._

_ >>><<< _

“You’ve seriously got to either stop hoarding Harry Styles memorabilia or just admit you want him back and call him.”

“Shut up. I’m not hoarding.” Louis tries to grab the magazine with Harry’s face on it that Zayn’s just pulled from beneath his couch. “I was just interested in one of the articles in there.”

“Ah yes. Big reader of _Film Journal International_ are you? Which article were you so keen to read?” Zayn starts flipping through the pages. “‘Dining at the Movies: Leading circuits share their thoughts on the cinema cuisine revolution?’ Or no maybe ‘The Disappearing Ticket Booth: The line around the block is becoming an uncommon sight?’”

He finally successfully snatches it from Zayn’s hands. “Hey, there are movie reviews in there, too, you know! You were picking the worst ones.”

Zayn stares at him thoughtfully for a moment. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

“What are you talking about?” Louis stuffs the magazine back beneath his couch. He hopes Zayn doesn’t look at what else is under there.

“I made a decision on your behalf, and now I’m wondering if I made a mistake.” Zayn says. “What if I told you that Harry begged me to tell him where you were staying when you were in London for the Tom Ford campaign?”

“What the--”

Zayn holds up a hand, defensively. “I actually called you and asked about your state of mind being near the same continent as Harry, and as I remember you said he may as well be on a different planet for all you cared.”

Louis shrugs even though his mind is racing with thoughts he wishes he could stop. As casually as he can, he asks, “What did he say?”

“He begged me to tell him where you were staying. I wouldn’t tell him. End of story. I didn’t think you’d appreciate him showing up when you were trying to shoot one of the biggest ad campaigns of your career. Not that you care, of course.”

“Of course I don’t care.” Louis sniffs. “He said he’d stop bothering me in his last text message. Guess he couldn’t keep his word about that either.”

“Yeah, you sound like you’re really over him.” Zayn rolls his eyes.

“I am.” Louis lies. “It’s been months now. Of course, I am. We were hardly together.”

“You know that’s not how that works, right?”

“How what works?” He examines his nails as though he’s uninterested in the answer.

“Just because it’s been a few months, doesn’t mean you’re just automatically over him. Time helps, definitely, but it’s not the only thing.”

Louis gives up on the pretence that he’s uninterested. “What else do I need to do to get over him?”

“Well, first of all, you have to _want_ to get over him.” Zayn says simply. “And I don’t think you do.”

>>><<<

Louis finds out Harry is back in L.A. via TMZ footage of him making his way through LAX. There’s a camera shoved in Harry’s face as someone peppers him with questions, following him as he walks through the airport.

“Where you coming from, Harry?”

“France.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“I just finished shooting a movie there.”

“You home for a while then?”

“No, I have promotion for _You’re Still the One_ in New York soon.”

“When’s the premiere for _You’re Still the One?”_

“Next week is the L.A. premiere.”

“You gonna bring your boyfriend?” Harry’s face shutters closed at the question.

“Uh, oh. Trouble in paradise, Harry?”

Harry doesn’t answer the question, just says, “Excuse me,” as he tries to get by.

“Are you still with Louis Tomlinson then? Are you single? Are you dating one of your co-stars? Looked like you and Logan Thompson were getting pretty friendly.”

Thus begins Louis’ most shameful week yet. He scours every tabloid for news about Harry, and once Harry begins promo in New York, Louis DVRs every interview and watches them multiple times. While the interviews mostly revolve around the movie that’s about to premiere, interviewers ask him a few questions about filming the war movie he just wrapped, and Louis begins to get a fuller picture of what filming it was like.

“Bootcamp was a bit brutal, yeah.”

“There were some very long days, sometimes twelve to fifteen hours a day on set.”

“The worst part was probably being in the water for hours.”

“A bit hard to swim, yes, with all that gear on.”

“I told L--someone I know that I’d been swimming enough to last a lifetime at this point.”

“Exhausting, yes. I would often fall asleep as soon as I got back to my hotel room.”

“Yes, it was incredibly intense. Both the story and the filming.”

“Quite taxing both physically and mentally.”

“No, didn’t see a lot of France. Not much downtime. I did spend one day in London though--looking for something.”

Every new piece of information feels like lead in Louis’ stomach.

He lays down across his couch after watching The Today Show. He needs to go in for a fitting in a few hours, so he should probably get up and shower and eat something. Instead, he stares at his phone for a long moment before giving in. After all these weeks of looking at Harry’s voicemails, he finally begins to listen.

There are so many more than he remembered there being. Listening to Harry’s voice on his television was one thing, to hear him speaking directly to Louis is quite another. The first ones are full of apologies and regret. They make Louis’ body stiffen. Then, they become increasingly panicked and the sound of Harry begging him to call makes his stomach churn. And then, they become resigned. Harry begins speaking as though he’s stopped believing Louis will ever listen to them or ever call him back.

“Hi, Lou. I know you probably wouldn’t like me to call you that anymore, but you’re not listening to these anyway. Remember that very first night? I was so embarrassing, wasn’t I? Just tripping all over myself because you were the prettiest boy I’d ever seen. I was too afraid to even touch you. It seemed like you couldn’t possibly be real, just a figment of my overactive imagination.”

“Hi, Louis. Fuck, I’m tired. What time is it? It’s fucking midnight here, and every muscle in my body aches. I think I hurt my wrist, but I was too ashamed to say anything. The stunt people are incredible. I feel like a whiny baby if I say anything about my wrist. Maybe I’ll say something tomorrow if it still hurts.”

“Oh, baby I miss you so much. I wish I’d had the guts to tell you how much you mean to me. Wish I’d just said the words. At least then you’d know. Even if it wasn’t enough, you’d at least know I love you. I wouldn’t be left here knowing you’ll never even know. Fuck.”

“I keep telling myself I’ll stop calling. I’m so sorry. I’m sure it bothers you every time I call and leave these voicemails. I can’t stand the thought of you moving on, and so I just keep calling so you can’t. I’m promising again that I’ll stop. It’s not fair to you. I don’t blame you for not putting up with this shit. Wish I’d explained. Wish I’d told you how it wouldn’t be easy. I was scared to tell you. Scared to warn you. I thought it wouldn’t be this bad. This movie is so much harder to make than any of the others. This is the last voicemail. I promise. I might let myself have one more text message. One last one and then I promise to let you go.”

Louis misses the fitting. He spends the rest of the day in bed. He forces himself to eat something around dinner time, and he googles Harry’s name as he eats a bowl of cereal.

There’s something new. Whereas all the press about Harry has been about his career lately, now there’s something else. There’s a grainy photograph of Harry walking into a restaurant with his arm around someone’s shoulders. It’s definitely a man. He seems a little shorter than Harry with lighter hair, maybe blonde. It’s hard to tell in the darkness of the photo.

Louis’ heart has been holding on so much more tightly than he ever suspected. He curses the person who took this photo with their apparently awful phone camera. He keeps refreshing for more news until finally there’s a rumor with a name attached. A co-star. Logan Thompson.

>>><<<

On the night of Harry’s movie premiere Louis dons his armor. The white t-shirt beneath his fitted black leather jacket that they let him take home from his latest Burberry photo shoot is sheer enough to see his skin through, and his fuck-me jeans are painted onto his legs snugly. He carefully styles his hair and wears designer shoes instead of his usual Vans or sneakers. He’s ready for battle.

Louis knows how these things work. He’s lived near L.A. all his life for fuck’s sake. He and Miles get invited to shit like this all the time, not that he usually takes up the offer. And he definitely knows how these things work in the music industry what with Matty dragging him to events all the time. There’s a lot going on tonight. Movie industry events and parties as well as Matty’s band’s album release. His plan is going to take some luck on his part to not run into Harry, but he’ll be on the lookout for any sign of him and try to duck out unseen if need be.

He hits the premiere event early before any of the actors arrive and walks the red carpet, so he’s sure to be photographed. He puts on his best celebrity persona mask and works the room.

“Harry Styles? Yeah, I know him. He told me to go to his dermatologist. They give him sheep’s placenta facials there apparently, but that’s a little too far for me. I’ll stick with my own skincare routine for now.”

He heads out just as Harry arrives and makes an appearance at the film studio’s party for the movie.

“Harry Styles? Hmmm...yeah. He’s the one that punched a paparazzo in the face at a movie premiere, right? Yeah, pretty sure that was him.”

He gets the first phone call as he drives to the next party. He lets it go to voicemail.

”Chlamydia. Yeah. Heard he got it from a koala bear when he was in Australia to film last year.”

He gets the next phone call as he drives to the official event for Matty’s album. He doesn’t answer that one either.

”Well, we’ll have to keep an eye out in his next shirtless scene. Heard he got plastic surgery to have those extra nipples removed.”

And then the texts begin. 

 

> _What’s all this about then?_
> 
> _Why are you doing this?_
> 
> _Where are you?_

He doesn’t answer the texts.

But he tweets, _Congrats on the new album! This event is sick!_

He leaves as soon as he sends the tweet and heads over to Matty’s house early for the afterparty. He’ll just wait there.

When the afterparty starts becoming crowded, he starts name dropping again. These people all know him far better than anyone at the previous parties, and he doesn’t even have to try to bring up Harry’s name.

“Oh. No. We aren’t together anymore. I heard he’s maybe seeing Logan Thompson now.” He shrugs as though he could care less. He wonders if he’s pulling it off. “I wish him good luck with Harry’s smelly feet stinking up the house.”

“What is it you think you’re doing?” A deep, slow drawl fans out across Louis’ ear.

Louis whips around to find Harry standing close.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Louis asks. The moment has come, and now his heart is pounding blood through his ears. Just the sight of Harry again in person after the past few months is enough to make him light headed. He looks so beautiful in his dark suit, dressed up like a proper movie star for his premiere, the premiere that Louis is probably doing a good job of ruining for him.

Harry looks at him carefully, assessing. “You like to keep a tight knit circle of friends. Only two of them are famous. Miles doesn’t make music. Matty does. You said album release on twitter, so that meant Matty.”

“You keeping tabs on me, Styles?”

Harry ignores that question. “Do you know how many texts I got because of you tonight? I’ve been following your trail of ridiculous rumors all over L.A. If you wanted my attention Louis, well, you have it.”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Thought you were pretty done with me--” Harry pulls out his phone to check a text. Louis peers over Harry’s hand to look at it. The text says, _are you seeing logan thompson? I’m at a party and someone just told me that._

Harry sees him reading the text. “Wait. Is this because of the rumors about Niall?”

“Who is _Niall_?”

“He’s a friend of my family’s, and he got mistaken for Logan Thompson in the tabloids because of some photo of us.”

“OH. His name is _Niall_ , then?”

“Yes. His name is Niall.”

Louis looks around the room as if searching for someone. “So where is your rebound boy then?

“Rebound?”

“Yeah. Haven’t heard about you with anyone else since me. So he’s clearly a rebound.”

Harry cracks a smile for the first time since the conversation started. “You keeping tabs on me, Lou?”

“Psssh. No.” Louis sniffs.

“Mmhmm.” Harry raises an eyebrow as the song changes to _Somebody Else,_ and Matty’s voice pours from the speakers. “Dance with me.”

Without waiting for an answer, Harry takes Louis by the hand and leads him out onto the makeshift dance floor. Louis offers no resistance. His fingers clasp Harry’s, and he hopes Harry doesn’t notice how tightly he’s holding on. Harry leads him to just in front of the wall and backs Louis into it, boxing him in. Harry leans in and for one heart stopping moment Louis thinks he’s going to kiss him, but instead Harry breathes against Louis’ ear and neck as he speaks.

“Hearing all those people talk to me about you tonight got me thinking about when you were mine. It’s hard when memories of you haunt me in every room of my house.”

Louis closes his eyes, letting Harry’s words wash over him.

“You just wanted my attention though, didn’t you? You just hated the thought of me with someone else. I knew as soon as the first person told me you were talking shit about me all over L.A. that you were just making sure I wasn't over you.”

Louis’ pulse has picked up, thrumming through him. Harry’s voice is growing more fretful.

“So here I am, Louis. You already know that you’ve won. I’ve come here, chasing after you, even though I know it doesn’t mean anything. Even though you’re not coming back to me. Fuck!” Harry abruptly pulls away from the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. He looks about two seconds away from punching the wall, but instead, he turns on his heel and strides away without looking back.

Louis stands frozen against the wall. He watches as Harry quickly disappears into the crowd, and he has no idea where he’s gone to. Is he still here? Did he leave and head to another party?

Louis takes a shaky breath and walks out of the party and gets in his car. He’s in front of Harry’s house before he ever thinks about what he’s doing. He punches in the passcode on the gate and it still works. There’s a light on somewhere in the house, but no one answers when he knocks. He tries the passcode for the lock on the house and that still works, too.

He finds Harry laying face down on his couch.

“Harry?” He asks quietly.

“What?” Harry asks, his voice muffled.

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned that I managed to get in your house without you knowing?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well, the passcodes all still worked, so--”

“I never changed the passcodes, Louis--just in case.”

“Oh.”

Harry finally looks up, his eyes rimmed red. “What are you doing to me, Louis? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Um. I don’t know.” He’s a lot less certain about his dumb plan now.

“You don’t _know_?” Harry sits up, but he looks down at his feet. They aren’t actually smelly. None of the stuff Louis told people tonight is remotely true. Harry sounds resigned when he speaks again. “You don’t know. Well, I know one thing, you don’t want my heart, Louis. You didn’t care at all until you thought there was someone new.”

“No! That isn’t--that’s not true.” Louis shakes his head. “I was going to try and talk to you when you came back to LA.”

“What? Why?”

“I saw all the interviews you gave.”

“You watched my interviews?”

“Yeah. I--watched them all. I didn’t realize how--intense filming had been.”

“Oh, well, yeah it--”

He interrupts before Harry can go any further. “I finally listened to the voicemails.”

Harry’s eyes dart to his face, and Louis watches a deep flush creep up his neck. Harry’s face twists into the worst expression anyone has ever given him right before he shoots to his feet and is down the hall before Louis knows what to do. His brain finally catches up, and he makes his way towards Harry’s bedroom. The door’s locked.

He stands outside bedroom door, his forehead pressed against it. “You know it’s a little ironic that you let me have access to your yard and your house, but then lock me out of just your bedroom. Or maybe that’s not that ironic actually.”

He doesn’t hear a response. He knocks at the door. “Harry? Can you please just come out and talk to me. I’m sorry about tonight. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just--”

Harry’s voice is a bit muffled through the door, but he still hears him clearly. “I’ll tell you what’s ironic, you wanting to talk all of a sudden. Didn’t want to talk to me for months. Just go away, Louis.”

“No. I’m not leaving. You were right, we should talk. Even if it’s just so you can tell me to my face that you don’t love me anymore.”

The door swings open so fast, Louis stumbles through it.

“Why are you doing this? You must really hate me to make fun of me all night and then throw it in my face that I’m still in love with you.” Anguish twists Harry’s expression ,and Louis can hardly stand to see it.

“I don’t hate you, Harry. And I did all that stupid stuff tonight because I wanted your attention, you were right about that. But I also thought maybe you had moved on, and I still can’t. I haven’t even really tried--Wait.” Harry’s words finally sink in. “Did you say you’re still in love with me?”

Harry crosses his arms protectively across his chest. “What does it matter, Louis? I get it, okay? I know I fucked up what we had, and if you’re here for some kind of closure, I--”

Louis stops him there. He closes the distance between them with a touch to Harry’s arm. “I’m not here for closure, Harry. And it matters because--I’m still in love with you, too.”

Harry goes still from his touch or perhaps his words, and Louis continues on.

“You said you fucked up what we had, but I know I played a part in it, too.” Louis lets his eyes search out Harry’s. “I never let you have the chance to explain. I was just so sure that I’d made it all into more than what it was. I felt like a fool for caring so much about someone who didn’t care that much back.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way, Lou.” Harry’s eyes shimmer green with unshed tears, but he lets his arms fall back to his sides. “ I never meant to make you feel like that. I was so overwhelmed by work, but I regret so much not trying harder to show you what you meant to me. I really wish I’d told you how hard it was going to be. I wish I’d known it would be that hard.”

Louis wants to reach out and touch him again, but he isn’t sure whether he should. “It was just such a huge change to go from seeing you every day to barely getting a chance to even talk to you. I didn’t know what to make of it other than that you just weren’t that interested in me.”

“Lou? Do you think maybe there’s still a chance for us?” Harry asks quietly.

“That’s what I’m doing here, Harry. I was afraid you’d found a rebound relationship, and I realized I wanted to be your rebound.”

“You do?” Harry asks, a watery smile on his face. “Does it count as a rebound if I’m rebounding with the same person I was with before?”

“I don’t know.” Louis quirks his mouth into a smile.

Hope has begun to light Harry’s eyes a startling green. “Does it count as a rebound if I never even considered finding someone else?”

Louis pretends to think about it, but his face has already broken into a grin. “Maybe.”

Harry takes a step forward into Louis’ personal space, and Louis breathes out a whoosh of air. A wealth of emotions seep to the surface. Relief, joy, anticipation. He knows some things need to be said first though.

Louis takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate on what he wants to say even with Harry close enough to touch. “Harry, I don’t want what happened to us before to happen to us again. We didn’t build our relationship--our love--on solid ground, but this time that’s what I want to do. This time I want us to talk things through before things go wrong or even after they go wrong.”

Harry brushes his lips gently across Louis’.

“We built things up so high and so quickly, and then we had so far to fall. This time will be different, Lou. This time we already know what happens when we build paper houses to the stars. This time we’ll be more careful because we know what it’s like to have it all come crashing down.”

Harry kisses him again. It feels like a promise. Louis tugs at the lapels of Harry’s designer suit jacket, pulling him more closely into his body. Harry deepens the kiss as his thumb caresses across Louis’ cheekbone until his long fingers rest in the hair at the back of his neck. Louis’ lips  cling to Harry’s, needy and desperate. It’s been so long.

Louis’ heart thrums a beat against his chest. He knows he wants more than a kiss. His fingers are still clutching Harry’s jacket, so he pulls it up and over Harry’s shoulders and lets it drop to the floor. This must confirm something to Harry because suddenly Harry is pulling harshly at Louis’ leather jacket, pulling it off of him and throwing it to the floor of his bedroom. Harry’s hurried fingers clutch the hem of Louis’ t-shirt and rip it up and over his head, breaking their frantic kissing for only a moment. His fingers work at the buttons of Harry’s shirt too slowly for Harry apparently as he stops Louis’ hands and quickly tries to pull it up and over his head instead. He gets tangled in it for a moment and comes out with a huge grin at Louis’ huff of laughter.

Harry topples him onto the bed in apparent retaliation for the laugh. Louis tugs at Harry’s pants, and Harry quickly pulls them off. Louis undoes the fly of his jeans and Harry tugs them down his legs until he’s left with just thin layers of fabric between them. There’s no time to admire the sight of Harry nearly stripped nude because Harry is kissing him again.

Harry’s kiss has turned harder, rougher. Louis feels one of Harry’s arms slide behind his back while the other slides beneath his thigh as Harry hoists him up closer into his body. Louis wraps his leg around him, and Harry’s fingers slip beneath the fabric of his boxers to caress Louis’ ass, his thumb pressing gentle strokes against his skin.

Louis breaks away from the kiss breathlessly to say, “Missed it, did you?”

“You have no idea.” Harry whimpers against Louis’ lips as he lets his fingers press more deeply against Louis’ skin. “Missed more than your ass though, Louis.”

“Glad to hear it,” Louis says. “My dick was getting jealous.”

Harry lets out a loud bark of laughter against Louis’ shoulder. “Oh, shut up,” Harry says as bites down on the muscle there.

Louis lets out a yelp before turning the tables and knocking Harry onto his back. He straddles Harry and holds his wrists to the bed. Harry’s eyes open widely. “Got something more to say, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head no. Louis grinds down bringing their hardening cocks together. He likes the way Harry sounds when he’s gasping for him. He releases Harry’s wrists and stands shakily so he can take his underwear completely off. They join the clothes strewn about Harry’s bedroom. He rummages quickly through Harry’s nightstand until he finds what he’s looking for.

Harry watches him hungrily and as Louis hops back on the bed to straddle him once more, Harry’s hands shoot out to touch him. Louis only allows him a few moments before pushing his arms back down. He pushes himself forward a bit and leans in towards Harry’s lips. Harry eagerly tilts his head up, searching for Louis’ lips, but Louis backs away. “I’ll tell you when you can touch.”

Louis sits back and slicks up a finger. With one hand propping him up against Harry’s chest, he lets his slicked up finger slowly enter himself. He cries out a brief noise of pleasure at the feeling as he watches Harry’s expression.

Harry’s face is pained, and when he sees Louis watching him, he turns his lips into a pout. “You’re teasing me.”

Louis smirks. “Maybe.”

He lets another finger slide alongside the first with a low moan. He twists his fingers in and out.

“Louuuu,” Harry begs. “Please I want to touch you.”

Louis doesn’t answer, but he removes his fingers and slides himself back down Harry’s body. Harry’s cock is straining against the now wet fabric. Louis noses alongside it as Harry bucks up. Louis holds his hips down and peels back the fabric just enough to release him. He licks one broad stripe up the underside of Harry’s large cock.

“Fucking hell, Louis.” Harry’s fingers fist the duvet on his bed, his eyes closed shut at the sensation. Louis quickly rips open a condom and slides it onto Harry and just as Harry opens his eyes, Louis sinks down onto him.

Harry shouts out as Louis makes an indistinct noise of pleasure. Fuck, he’s missed this. He’s missed everything about Harry. He can see Harry restraining himself from fucking up into him, waiting for Louis to lead. So he does. He finds a rhythm as he moves his hips, Harry’s cock sliding in and out. He wonders if he can come just from Harry’s cock.

“Oh baby, you look so good riding my cock like this.” Harry moans. “Fuck, you feel so good, Lou.”

“You can touch me now.” Harry’s hands shoot up to clasp at Louis’ ass holding him in place as he fucks up into him relentlessly. Louis cries out at the feeling of Harry’s hard cock finding just the right spot and then unrelentingly hitting it again and again until he’s spilling out across Harry’s stomach. Harry watches Louis’ face as he comes and fucks up into him once, twice more before he comes inside Louis.

Louis catches his breath for a moment before he slides off of Harry and collapses onto the bed next to him, still panting. Harry turns on his side to face Louis, so Louis does the same. Harry’s short curls stick to his forehead with sweat, and he’s wearing the most smug expression Louis has ever seen. “You came just from my dick.”

“Oh god. Shut up.”

“Who knew rebound sex was so good?”

“Well, I hope this doesn’t mean you have a taste for rebound sex now.”

Harry kisses him sweetly on the lips. “Nope. I think it was so good because of who I was having sex with, so no, one time was enough. No more rebounds for me.”

 

**> >><<<**

**EPILOGUE**

**> >><<<**

 

People Magazine

“Harry Styles Opens Up About Movies, Celebrity, and Love”

By Blandine Shippe  

Harry Styles is the latest actor to pull back the curtain on his life for our Celebration of Film special edition.

Harry has starred in a string of well regarded movies from romantic comedies like _You’re Still the One_ to his latest film, a heist movie starring he and an ensemble cast as friends whose latest jewelry theft has gone terribly wrong.

He opened up about the last movie he filmed, a WWII epic out early next year.

“The filming was quite intense. There were a lot of hours in the water in all our gear. It was physically exhausting at times with some extremely long shooting days. It could be mentally taxing as well. That was some real fear on our faces when things exploded.” Harry smiles widely, his trademark dimples making an appearance. “Never quite got used to that.”

When asked about the short break he took when filming wrapped, he said simply, “The shoot took a toll on my personal life. I wanted some time to figure things out, but also, I always take a short break after most of my films. I know people are trying to make it about more than that, but it is what it is.”

Although the phrase ‘it is what it is’ is well known, it’s also often used by Louis Tomlinson on social media. Many speculate Harry has been in a relationship with Tomlinson since a GQ profile of the famous model in which he admitted to having a celebrity crush on Styles.

He seemed to allude to the GQ profile when asked about his feelings on celebrity. “Of course, fame is well known for being a double edged sword. I obviously enjoy many of the perks, and I get to spread awareness about causes dear to my heart. I’ve also met some really amazing people just because they happened to know who I am.”

While known for not answering many personal questions on the record, we did ask about Tomlinson. He joked that even if he says no comment the story would probably run with multiple photographs of them together. When shown some of the photos of them together that might run with this story, he tried to maintain his expression which eventually dissolved into an exaggerated sniff of his nose.

We got a bit more insight when he suggested some alternative headlines and artwork for this article. “The headline could be ‘S-mitten Styles’ with a photograph of a mitten. Or ‘Tomlinson’s His type’ with a photo of a me with a typewriter. Maybe ‘S’more With Styles’ and there could be a photo of me eating a s’more.”

When asked if this meant we could exclusively reveal the confirmation of his relationship with Louis Tomlinson, Harry pulled out his phone to answer a call. The wallpaper background of Harry’s phone appeared to be that of Louis Tomlinson drinking a glass of milk.

Harry’s film, _You’re Still the One_ , is now available on Blu-Ray.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave kudos and comments if you liked the fic! You can [reblog this fic post](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/168896580971/paper-houses-written-by-allwaswell16-for) for the fic, and I shall love you forever if you do so! <3 
> 
> Thank you to nottoldforthiship for the use of her real life dating experience for Louis to use in his anecdote in GQ. Bahahaha! Thanks B!


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